Monthly Archives: December 2015

Someone Loves Me

These things tell me someone loves me:
A pretty present under a tree,
A conversation and a cup of tea
A gentle hug, an encouraging word,
A dog that warms my feet, or a cat that’s purred,
Because I’m as insignificant as a bird,
But I matter
I am noticed
Someone cares.

These things tell me someone loves me:
Food, laughter, friends and family,
Lights, ornaments, songs and cookies,
Celebrating a moment in history:
God, Emmanuel has come, a baby
It’s more than just a nice children’s story
He is The Truth.
He came for us.

These things tell me Someone loves me:
Bethlehem’s child decorating a tree,
To pay the price of my penalty,
This is the best news that I’ve ever heard,
His gift means my eternity is secured
This cup, my redemption, He endured
Child, ornament,
His life for mine,
What a gift!



Loved, 12/15/2015, Michael N. Johns
The crayons and the coloring books
Were inexpensive gifts, to remind me
Every Christmas, and every time I looked
At pages done, and pages yet unseen
I was loved.

I colored outside the lines sometimes
It didn’t matter to mom and dad,
Although as a perfectionist I
Felt quite frequently sad
I was loved.

Every year the books were given,
With crayons in an ever larger box
Until I thought I outgrew them
Like my toes outgrew the socks
I was loved.

I miss the coloring books and crayons,
I got while I was growing up
Striving to break my dependence on
My mom and my pop
They taught love.

I bought crayons and coloring books,
And wrapped them with care for mine,
To remind them whenever they look,
Though they might color outside my lines,
They are loved.

I think, without disparaging the gifts,
We should tell each other, me and you.
Adults should get reminders like this
I bought some for me, too.


13, 12/11/2015, Michael N. Johns
(For Caleb)

Happy Birthday, quickly teen
The babies, so soon grown
I reminisce, and love my own
Forget, remember all I’ve seen,

The time has ticked, it’s gone now
My treasures, dreams at play
I love who you’ve become today
Though I don’t know, I know somehow

Happy Birthday, boy turned man
How short these long years feel
I taught love, “strong as death,*” and real,
I “booped” your nose, now shake your hand.

I cry with pride, you are mine
And independent too
I see the good, rooted in you
Trust God, not me, you’ll be just fine.

Happy Birthday, strong, brave boy,
You’ve done well, where I’ve failed
And as you navigate your trail,
You should know you bring me such joy.
*SOS 8:6